Time Makes You Bolder
by NuclearNik
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts to repeat his final year, Neville finds himself unexpectedly intrigued by Pansy Parkinson. *Written for The Slytherin Cabal's Wicked Witches of Hogwarts.*


Neville didn't like to pick favourites—not friends, food, or plants—but if he were forced to choose, he'd probably claim autumn as his favourite of the four seasons.

There was just something about the coolness in the air, the way the trees burned bright before shedding their old colours.

The last vestiges of summer stubbornly clinging to the grounds around the school had finally disappeared, and it was all pumpkins and bubbling cauldrons.

When Neville had chosen to return to Hogwarts to redo his final year, he'd been anxious. Being back in the halls that had so recently echoed with the sound of crying and curses was challenging, to say the least. He still flinched at loud bursts of noise and sudden movement, wand drawn and ready to fight. The castle that was supposed to be a safe place for children to learn had turned into a warzone, and no amount of remodelling and fresh paint could erase the memories.

They lingered like a foul odour.

Finally, six weeks into the school year, everyone was starting to find their rhythm again. Neville was enjoying the classes and the workload. After everything, the simple stress of academics was an immense relief.

It was Friday, and he only had one class left for the afternoon. In the few minutes before he was due at the greenhouses for Herbology, he took the long way, skirting around the castle so he could stay outside.

The late afternoon sunshine felt good on his face, warming him from the outside in.

Brightly coloured leaves crunch beneath his shoes, bringing a smile to his face.

Entirely too soon, his walk was over, and it was time for class. It wasn't much of a hardship, though. Professor Sprout came up with creative assignments, and just being around all the growing things made Neville happy.

He headed into Greenhouse Three and found an open spot at one of the work tables, grabbing his gloves as Professor Sprout spoke.

"Alright, students. Listen up! Whoever is across the table from you will be your partner for this assignment. Please retrieve the supplies listed on the board."

There was something bushy growing from a pot on the table, keeping him from seeing who was across from him. He used his hand to part the bush, revealing—

_Pansy Parkinson_.

If Neville were honest, he was actually a little scared of the dark-haired witch. She had keen eyes and a sharp tongue. He'd been on the receiving end of her barbs countless times in the last seven years.

She was staring at him over the little green tendrils between them, chewing gum and blowing a pink bubble between her lips.

For someone who acted so ugly sometimes, she sure was pretty, with big green eyes and lips the colour of peonies. From this close, Neville could see dark freckles dusting the bridge of her upturned nose.

_Pop! _

The sound of the bubble bursting made Neville realize he'd been staring like an idiot, and he broke her gaze, mumbling under his breath that he'd go get their supplies.

When he returned, the bucket of tools in hand, Pansy had moved to the station next to him. They set up in silence, and Neville prepared himself to do all of the work while Pansy took the credit, as that's usually happened when he was paired with a Slytherin.

"So, we're supposed to splice this, right?"

_That's a surprise. _

"Uh, yes. Fanged Geranium to Flitterbloom. It'll be easier if we, uh, feed it first."

"Noted. I'll grab some beetles.

He nodded, unsure what else to say. He was still flabbergasted that Pansy seemed to care at all about the project.

He watched her walk away and realized his gaze was lingering just a little too long on the curve of her arse. He felt heat rush to his face as he shuffled around a few seed packets to give himself something to do.

She returned with the beetles and grabbed a small paring knife off the worktop. While she chopped the beetles into smaller bits next to him, Neville filled a watering can with a quick _Aguamenti_, and smiled as the leaves of the Flitterbloom stretched out with languid grace, eager to drink up every droplet of water.

They continued through their assignment, and Neville found himself thinking that perhaps he'd had Parkinson all wrong. She certainly wasn't fitting in the space he'd slotted her into in his mind.

She smiled, full-on smiled—not smirked—with what could only be described as satisfaction when their splicing was successful. When they received a "Well done!" from Professor Sprout, Pansy turned and raised her fist to Neville.

For just a split second, he thought she was going to slug him. Thankfully, he realized she meant it as a gesture of camaraderie, so he curled his fingers into his palm and tapped his knuckles to hers.

All in all, the experience had been pleasant, and Neville realized that sometimes, there was so much more to the people he thought he'd already figured out.

* * *

When the sky was dark, and her dorm mates had stopped their insipid, giggling gossip session, Pansy slipped out of bed, laced up her boots and headed out the door.

It was late enough that the castle was quiet. All she had to do was stay out of Filch's predictable path and avoid the prefects making their rounds.

As she stepped foot outside, she stopped for a minute to close her eyes and just _be_. The cold air was a comfort against her skin, reminding her that she was alive.

Heading west to the pitch, she covered a lot of ground quickly—she did everything in her life with speed.

The scent of broom polish was thick in the athletics shed. She slipped her wand out of her pocket, watching as her broom—a Moontrimmer, the only good thing her father had ever given her—floated through the air toward her.

When her hand closed over the smooth wood of the handle, she felt the first tug of freedom calling to her.

She never felt better than when she was zipping through the sky. There was a freedom to flying that was like nothing else, a rush, a high.

She felt like she could finally _breathe_.

She took off, hair whipping wildly around her head in the cool midnight breeze.

The ground rushed closer as she swooped down to weave through the trees on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Just before she met the earth, she pulled up, shouting with glee as she rocketed higher into the air.

Bringing her broom to a halt to float in the air, she looked down at the scenery below.

There was a shadow on the hillside, and it seemed to be moving, heading down the path to the Half-Giant's hut.

Deciding to investigate, Pansy flew a little closer, floating above the hill, just out of sight of whoever it was walking the path at this late hour.

When the figure reached a patch of ground illuminated in the light of the moon, the shadows on their face cleared just enough that she could make out their features.

_Longbottom. _

What was he doing out so late? He'd always seemed like the type to mind the rules. A timid bloke, never making a fuss of things or rocking the boat.

Curiosity got the best of Pansy, and she guided her broom towards the wizard walking in the dark, moving in front of him to face him and slowly flying backwards with each step he took.

He hadn't looked up yet, somehow missing the six-foot broom and wild witch perched atop it.

The silence was killing her, so, taking care not to be too loud or risk startling him, she said, "We've really got to stop meeting like this, Longbottom."

Unfortunately, the poor fellow had been utterly oblivious to his surroundings and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Pansy's voice.

When he lost his balance, feet slipping in the soft dirt, she reached a hand out, vaguely hoping it would help him keep his balance.

It didn't.

Instead, he caught her hand in his, and accidentally slipped further backwards, unceremoniously yanking Pansy from her broom. She landed on top of him where he lay sprawled on his back in the dirt, the two of them just a tangle of limbs in the dark.

They were practically cuddling at that point, and Pansy decided she'd better get off him, so she planted her hand on Neville's chest to push herself into a sitting position.

Before she could remove herself, surprisingly large hands landed on her hips.

"Wait. I mean, uh, if you want, that is."

Pansy's mouth twisted into a grin. Was Longbottom flirting with her? She found she was not as repulsed by the thought as she may have once been. He was a good bloke, loyal to his friends and fellow students.

Looking down at him from her perch atop him, Pansy decided that he was rather cute. In a rugged, man-of-nature kind of way. She knew his hands were calloused because their fingers brushed during class earlier in the day. He was all big, broad shoulders and slim hips.

Pansy ran through the possibilities in her head of what exactly might happen here.

She could leap off him, help dust him off and then they'd go their separate ways.

Or, she could settle her hips more firmly onto his, lean in, and see what happened.

Pansy was curious and adventure-seeking at heart, and the thought of never finding out what could happen with the second option was far too much to bear.

As she shifted a bit, settling her knees on either side of Neville's, she put a little more of her weight onto her arms, hands planted on Neville's delightfully firm chest.

"Well?" Pansy said with a smirk. "What is it that we're waiting for?" She may—_or may not_—have moved her hips just a bit, just enough so she could feel the softness of her centre just barely brush the hardness of his.

Before Neville opened his mouth to speak, the sweetest flush spread over his cheeks and the freckled bridge of his nose.

"Pussy got your tongue, Longbottom?"

At that, he sputtered a bit, no words coming out and that blush deepening.

"Well, um, I just thought since we're already on the ground, I—"

"Spit it out, mate."

Suddenly, his whole demeanour changed, confidence shining in his eyes as he used his firm grip on her hips to pull her forward just a bit. Then a hand at the back of her neck applied a slight pressure until their faces were inches apart, and Pansy could feel the hot puffs of Neville's breath against her skin.

"Kiss me." It was not a question, much to Pansy's surprise, but it wasn't quite a demand either. He was waiting for her to choose, and she had a feeling if she told him no, or pushed him away, he'd pull back immediately and remove his hands from her person.

But strangely, she found she wanted him to _keep _his hands on her person.

So, she crossed the small distance between them and pressed her mouth to his.

His lips were soft, and there was no slobbering or face sucking. He was a somewhat decent kisser, actually. Firm and steady, he took his time, brushing his tongue along the seam of Pansy's lips, slipping in to tangle with hers when she granted him entrance.

When they pulled back for a breath, he kept her lower lip caught between his teeth, pulling just hard enough to sting. He controlled her movements with the hand he had at her nape, fingers lightly twisting in the thick straight hair covering her neck.

Sitting up, Neville adjusted Pansy so she was sitting in his lap, legs crossed behind his back. In that position, they were much closer than they'd been before—hip to hip and chest to chest. The hand at her neck pulled her close until they were pressed together. The rough pad of his thumb brushed along the side of her neck, a soothing motion that calmed her as much as it lit her aflame.

His hand cupping her jaw brought her eyes to his.

"Hello." There was the hint of a soft smile on his face.

"Hi." Pansy wasn't exactly sure what was happening here, but she was content to see where it led.

"I was out taking a walk. Needed some air."

Pansy knew the feeling.

"Well you know, the best way to get some air is by flying." She gestured to her broom, letting him know she could take him up if he wanted.

The look on his face made her chuckle.

"Oh, no, that's okay. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you— "

"It's not an inconvenience, Longbottom. C'mon. You'll like it. Promise I'll be gentle," she said with what she hoped was a saucy wink as she hopped off his lap and grabbed her broom.

He looked as if he were about to say no again, but then looked up at the sky, had some sort of silent conversation with himself, and when his gaze fell back to the broom, he squared his shoulders, looking like a brave little soldier.

"Ready? You'll have to get on behind. You're too big for me to steer around."

There was still a bit of panic in his eyes, but he swung his leg up, and just like that, he was sitting securely behind her. Speaking over her shoulder, Pansy said, "You're going to want to hold on."

Immediately, his big, strong hands wrapped around her middle, and she had to admit that flying with a passenger had its perks. She was warm and partially sheltered from the wind.

Pansy kept things slow and easy because she certainly didn't need Neville puking on her. Gradually, his tight grip loosened just a bit, until his hands rested comfortably at her hips.

As they flew above the Forbidden Forest, meandering through the treetops, Pansy scootched back just a bit so she could rest her back against Neville's warm chest.

If felt nice, being held like this. A great snog or shag and then a perfect flight were Pansy's favourite combination of activities.

After a few more minutes of the wind in their hair and moonlight on their skin, Pansy headed back to the castle, landing on the lawn and holding the broom steady so Neville could dismount.

He turned to her, one hand scrubbing at the back of his neck as he said, "That was nice, huh?"

"Yeah. You're a surprisingly alright kisser, Longbottom. And I'm proud of you for facing your fears and getting on a broom. It wasn't so bad, right?"

"Maybe, but I think it was mostly your adept handling. I'm pants with a broom. Would have sent us flying to the ground."

Over the last thirty minutes, Pansy had time to mull over a few things. One conclusion she came to was that Neville wasn't half-bad company, and she wouldn't mind hanging out with him again. Honestly, the boys in Slytherin that had returned for their final year of schooling were prats. She loved them, but like pesky brothers you couldn't rid off. There was something about Neville. Fresh. Fun. And dare she say, _hot_.

Perhaps this year wouldn't have to be quite as lonely as she'd thought it would.

They just stood there staring at the ground for a minute, before Pansy finally spoke. "Why'd you kiss me?"

Neville's eyes flew to hers, and he cleared his throat. "It felt right?"

She laughed. "Is that a question?"

"Uh, no. It felt right, full stop."

"And do you do everything that _feels right?" _

"Trying to. Now. Life is short, you know?"

The death and destruction she'd seen in the last year came to her mind as she stared into his eyes that had gone a little misty with memories.

Yeah, she knew.

The solemn moment was too much for Pansy, so she broke it by speaking. "If you want, we could do this again. I could teach you how to fly."

"That seems like a rather one-sided deal in my favour. What do you get out of it?"

She laughed. "That's very Slytherin of you. What do I get out of it? I get to spend time with someone who doesn't make me feel like my brain might melt out my ears if I hear just one more tidbit of inane gossip. Plus, I love to fly. Any excuse to get in the air is good enough for me."

Longbottom eyed her as if gauging whether she was serious or not.

"Merlin's balls, did I make life so miserable for you that you can't trust me when I'm sincere?"

He started to say no until she arched a delicate brow in his direction. Then he sighed and said, "Okay fine. I will admit that you seem like you've changed, but that fear of someone being needlessly cruel to you? It doesn't really go away."

With a few steps forward, Pansy was standing toe to toe with him. She reached up to cup his jaw with her hands, looking straight into his eyes as she said, "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry that my friends and I ever made you feel like anything less than a strong, capable, caring wizard. If I could take it back, I would. I was wrong, Neville. About you, and about so many other things, and I wouldn't even blame you if you felt like you couldn't forgive me and— "

It was his turn to cup her face. The smile twisting his lips lit up his face. "Let's just start fresh, yeah? Doesn't that sound good?"

Nodding, Pansy said, "Fresh start. Shake on it?" Neville's hand left her jaw to shake her hand firmly, just how a handshake should be.

With her broom ready to be put back into the shed, Pansy turned to Neville one last time, saying, "So, we'll do this again sometime?"

A crooked smile on his face, he said, "Yeah, Parkinson. See you around."


End file.
